


Children's Work

by lookninjas



Series: Children's Work [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cults, End-of-the-World Theology, Gen, Michigan, Militia Movement, Religion, Religious Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 01:49:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6545548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookninjas/pseuds/lookninjas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ben Organa left his home and his parents and his whole world behind to join the First Order Militia, he thought he was going to change the world.  Then Leader Snoke told him exactly what that meant, what Kylo Ren was meant to do, and everything fell apart.  With no other options in sight, he grabbed the only person he could save and fled north, to the small towns, dark forests, and rough roads his father used to travel down.  He might manage to find a new identity somewhere in Northern Michigan, assuming the world doesn't end first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Children's Work

The panic sets in sometime around dawn. He's not really sure where he's going, apart from north; the steering wheel is shuddering in his hands more and more with every mile and he doesn't know if it's the road or if it's the car or maybe if it's just him; nothing looks the same anymore.  Everything is rolling hills and twisting turns and fucking trees, stark black against the yellowing edges of the sky, and the masses of dark forest on either side of US-127 feel like they're closing in on him, like he can't escape.

 _Nothing escapes Leader Snoke._  
  
The car slows down and he can't figure out why until he realizes his foot has, once again, eased off the gas. Like maybe he doesn't want to escape. Like maybe he wants to get caught.  Go back.  Throw himself on Leader Snoke's mercy and beg forgiveness.  There'll be punishment; there's always punishment.  But he's strong.  He can take it.  He can --  
  
But Rey.  Rey.  
  
He tightens his grip on the wheel and forces the pedal back down, feeling the Caprice lurch forward. Rey makes a little noise from the backseat, like she's waking up, and Kylo -- not Kylo, not anymore; he'll have to find a new name, something common, easy to overlook -- eases off the gas, does his best to smooth the ride. He glances in the rearview, just for a second, but she's still laying down and he can't really see her and he can't take his eyes off the road long enough to turn around and check on her.  
  
His headlights flash off a sign: _Rest Area 2 Miles_ and his chest tightens with something that feels disturbingly like hope.  Like that moment at the edge of the compound, when he first thought about running, just running away from all of it -- the First Order and the new millennium and the seals and the red horse and all of it.  And then he saw Rey sitting there by herself, all alone in that long skirt with her hair covered up by a scarf, looking so sad, but when he said her name she turned and smiled at him and he felt --    
  
And he knew.  He knew the Spirit, and he knew God's Will, and he knew.  
  
He's not sure whether this rest stop is meant to be a sign or not; probably not, it's probably just a rest stop.  But he needs to pull over. Just for a second, just to catch his breath and check on Rey and if there's a map, then look at it and see where he is and try to figure out where he's going.  If there's vending machines, he could get a pop, get some caffeine.  Clear his head.  If it's quiet enough, maybe he can close his eyes.  Meditate.  Let God lead him, since by himself he's already lost.  
  
Mostly he just needs the world to stop flying at him so fast.  Just for a second.  
  
It's not much of a rest stop, not like the big one he passed down in Clare, the one with too many cars and too many people, even at 4:30 in the morning on a random Wednesday in late July.  Just a long strip of empty parking spaces, a small brick building with large glass windows.  One semi idling at the very edge of everything; probably the driver just had to pull over to sleep.  Probably.  Kylo -- no, still not Kylo, probably never again -- doesn't think the First Order had connections to any truck drivers.  
  
He doesn't think.  
  
There's a lot Snoke didn't tell him.  
  
_That's your trouble_ , Hux told him, light eyes glittering in the darkness.  If he hadn't known better, he would've thought Hux was worried about him.  Probably he was just bragging, though.  Hux was always like that, showing off.  _You put too much on yourself.  Obviously, yes, it'll be better if we succeed on the first run through.  But there's always a backup plan.  Say something goes wrong for you.  You get caught, or there's too many witnesses for you to get a shot off, or even you get scared and just can't do it.  That's when Snoke gives me my target, and I go out, and try again.  And I'm sure there's someone waiting in the wings to take over for me.  The Supreme Leader's a pragmatic man, Ren.  He's not going to put all his eggs in one basket.  I've got you.  If you can't, then I will.  Simple as that._  
  
He wonders, absently, if they'll call it off now.  With him out in the world, knowing as much as he knows.  Maybe they'll decide it's not safe.  Maybe they'll decide to stay underground, hidden, until a better time.  
  
It's a little over five months until the end of the world.  There isn't going to be a better time.  Kylo knows that better than anyone.    
  
He kills the lights, cuts the engine, and slumps back into his seat with his hands over his eyes and tries to believe that Snoke was lying about that, too.  That everything's to be fine -- no martial law, no police state, no Antichrist, no Tribulation.  That he and Rey aren't fleeing into a world that is already doomed.  That they haven't just fled the narrow path of the saved for the wide, broad lane of the damned.  
  
Because if he doesn't do that, if he can't make himself believe that, he won't be able to keep moving.  
  
He presses his palms against his eyes until light and color burst suddenly across his vision, until his breathing slows down a little and he doesn't feel so much like he's about to start screaming, and then he turns around and looks at Rey.  She's still sleeping peacefully in the backseat, her stuffed bear clutched in her arms, her blanket draped over her.  Out like a light.  
  
She'd woken up when he came into the children's room, even though the others didn't.  The ones that were left, the ones whose parents hadn't yet found a way to spirit them off to relatives or friends on the outside.  They slept on, but Rey woke up.  Looked at him.  Smiled.    
  
It was so easy to scoop her into his arms and carry her off to the waiting car.  She didn't even ask where they were going.  
  
Which is good, because he still doesn't know.  
  
He stares at her a little longer, hoping she'll sleep, willing her to wake up.  She doesn't even twitch.    
  
Finally, he sighs and reaches over to the glovebox.  He took a few guns with him when he left -- a vague plan of selling them to someone the Order knows, someone too interested in self-preservation to admit he ever saw the Order's runaway children and therefore an easy mark -- but the only one loaded is the 9mm in the glovebox.  Snoke gave it to him personally, placed it in his hands, told him he'd soon be expected to use it.  He might still, maybe.  Hopefully not. He pulls it out anyway, closes the glovebox back up again, and slips out of the car, sliding the gun into the waistband of his jeans as he stands.  
  
He glances back at the semi, as if daring the driver to try something, but there's nothing but the steady rumble of its idling engine.  Asleep, probably.  
  
Probably.  
  
He locks the car and heads toward the rest stop.    
  
The lights are dim, orange; they hum relentlessly overhead as huge moths batter them with frantic wings.  _Pellston bombers_ , he thinks.  Sitting in lawn chairs in Grandpa Organa's back yard, the adults all holding beers or glasses of white wine, Poe teaching some of the younger kids to play bocce and the scent of citronella candles that never quite managed to keep the insects at bay.  His father in a short-sleeved buttondown shirt, halfway unbuttoned, wearing cutoff jeans and battered sandals and sticking out like a sore thumb, laughing as a lawyer's wife shrieked and dodged a moth, spilling wine on her bare brown arm.  _That's what we always called them where I was from.  Pellston bombers._  
  
As he approaches the glass-cased map on the outside of the building, he realizes:  that's where he's going.  Not Pellston, maybe; he's not even really sure where that is.  They went to Sleeping Bear once, and spent a few weekends on Mackinac Island eating fudge and visiting forts, looking at cannons and buying rabbit's feet and sometimes jostling around in horse-drawn carriages for the experience of it.  But he's never been to the places his father knew -- never camped in the PRC or had breakfast at Brutus Camp Deli or gone swimming at Wycamp.  Now he's here, Houghton Lake Rest Area 401.  If he keeps going, he'll make Gaylord in another hour.  From there it'd be another two and a half hours to the Bridge.  Vanish into the UP, Escanaba or Ironwood.    
  
If he has enough gas money to get that far.  If the Caprice doesn't break down.  If he doesn't get pulled over with Rey in the backseat and a 9mm in the glovebox and four rifles -- none his, two definitely illegal for anyone -- in the trunk.  If the First Order doesn't find him.    
  
He glances back over his shoulder.  The semi is still rumbling away.  The Caprice is where he left it, locked up tight with Rey inside.  The sky is shading from yellow to orange, and the moths still batter the lights overhead.  
  
_Pellston bombers._  
  
Near the rest stop doors, he sees the gleaming silver shell of a payphone.  He slides his hand into his pocket, feels the edges of the quarters there.  A buck, maybe a buck twenty-five.  He doesn't know how much time that'll give him.  
  
He doesn't even know if he remembers the number anymore.  He barely looked at the slip of paper when his father handed it to him, threw it away as soon as he could.  Promised himself he'd turn to anyone else in the world before he reached out to that man.  But there's no one else now, not for this.    
  
It's Han Solo or it's no one.  
  
He puts seventy-five cents into the slot, presses buttons like it's instinct, like it's muscle memory (like it's a miracle).  It rings once, twice, and just when his hopes are raised for an answering machine, there's silence, followed by a rough voice asking, "Leia?"  
  
And he freezes, phone still pressed to his ear, his whole body starting to shake even though it's not cold at all.  
  
Breathing on the other end.  One breath, two, and then, "Ben?"  
  
His eyes flood with tears, and he can't stop his breath from hitching, almost a sob, and immediately his father's panic floods the space between them, from Warren all the way to Houghton Lake.  
  
"Just --  It's gonna be okay, Ben.  Whatever's happened...  we're gonna fix it.  I promise.  Just tell me where you are, and I'll --"  
  
"No!"  Too loud, and he panics a little, glancing back at the semi, at the Caprice in the parking lot.  If Rey wakes up without him --  "No.  You can't.  I can't...  I had to go, Dad.  I...  just...  I had to leave.  The Order.  I had to go.  And I can't...  I can't come home.  And you can't come get me.  You can't.  It isn't safe.  It's not --"  
  
"Okay."  Soothing, or at least he's trying to be.  Han Solo never did soothing very well.  It's not in his nature.  "Okay, okay.  I won't try to find you.  Just tell me what I can do.  Anything at all, Ben. You know that."  
  
"There's nothing --"  
  
"If there was nothing, you wouldn't've called me."  Sterner, now.  He does that a little better.  "Take a breath, Ben.  Just...  Take a breath."  
  
"I don't _need_ \--"  
  
"Listen to me," and now he's getting angry; Kylo shouldn't have bothered; his father was never -- "Not as your dad, but as someone who was breaking the law long before you were even thought of.  You're running.  Okay.  But you panic, Ben, and you're gonna screw up, and you're gonna get caught.  So stop.  Take a breath.  And then tell me what you need."  
  
He almost hangs up the phone.  He should hang up the phone.  Instead, he closes his eyes, blocks everything out -- the semi, the Caprice, the humming lights and the fucking Pellston bombers and his father breathing down the line from his bedroom back in Warren.  He breathes in deep, and he lets it out slow, and then he does it again just to be sure.  He waits for God to say something in the silence, but there's nothing.  Just him, alone in the weak predawn light, terrified and temporarily nameless.  
  
And then he says, "Papers.  I need...  I don't know.  Fake driver's license or something, in case I get pulled over."  He has one now, of course; license and registration and proof of insurance, all provided by the Order.  Which means he needs to get rid of that identity as soon as possible, become someone they'll never know.  And it's not just him.  "Um..."  He opens his eyes, bites his lip, looks back at the Caprice.  "Dad.  I'm not alone.  There's...  I brought someone with me."  
  
Silence for a moment.  "Not the Hux kid," his dad says, and it's not a question.  
  
"No.  She's...  Her name's Rey.  She's..."  _She can read chapter books.  She can already take out a squirrel with a bb gun.  She's the only person who smiles at me anymore and I think that's why Snoke told me to stay away from her._   "She's just a kid, Dad.  And her parents --  I couldn't --  Dad, I couldn't leave her.  I just... couldn't."  
  
Another long silence, and Kylo --no, Ben, common name, easier to remember than trying to make something up -- wonders what his father is piecing together.  Han Solo's no genius, not like Ben's mother.  But he's clever enough.  "Tell me how old," he says.  "Just...  Just for the papers.  So I'll know when to put her date of birth."  
  
Ben swallows hard.  "Five," he says, half grudging, half afraid.  "She's...  five."  
  
"Five," his father repeats, and sighs.  And then, "And you're not gonna tell me what finally got you spooked enough to grab her and run, are you?"  
  
He could.  He could, and then either Snoke would be right about everything and the whole First Order would burn -- Hux and Rey's mom and all the kids still sleeping in the children's room and everyone else besides --  or, maybe, Snoke would be wrong.  And they'd survive.  
  
And they'd know who turned them in.  
  
And it would take a miracle to save Ben and Rey then.  
  
"Sorry," is all he says, and his father sighs again.  
  
"Forget it; I shouldn't have asked."    
  
The phone beeps, then; Ben shoves his last two quarters in quickly, with shaking fingers.  
  
"Still there?"  
  
"Yeah," Ben says, quickly.  And then, "I don't know how much time --"  
  
"Don't worry about it; I think fast.  Look.  You don't have to tell me where you're going, but I need to know where you are now.  I'll send you to someone; they'll get you what you need, and then you can run wherever.  Just --"  
  
Ben doesn't hesitate.  He's too committed now anyway.  "Houghton Lake.  The rest station, just off 127."  
  
"Okay."  A pause, thinking.  He really does think fast.  "Okay.  Stay on 127, even after it turns to 75.  When you hit Gaylord, turn northwest onto M-32.  You're going to a town called Elmira.  It's tiny; you might go past it the first time.  You can double back at the gas station at the junction with 131 if you miss it.  There's a place there called the Elmira Inn.  You're gonna meet a friend of mine, calls herself Maz.  She'll take care of you.  Don't expect her before noon, though.  This kind of work takes a little time.  You got all that?"  
  
"Yeah," he says.  "Yeah.  I've got it."  This time, when he looks over at the Caprice, he thinks he sees Rey's face behind the windshield, peering out, trying to find him.  "Dad," he says.  "I've got to go."  
  
"One more thing," his father says.  "What do you want me to tell your mom?  Nothing is an option -- I don't like it, but --"  
  
The awful truth is, Ben doesn't like it either.  He should, but he doesn't.  Not enough.  "Tell her...  Just tell her I'm out," he says.  "And...  And I'm safe.  And...  And that's it."  There's more, but he can't let himself say it.  Not right now.  
  
His father doesn't press it.  "Okay," he says.  "You need anything else, you call me, okay?  Anything at all.  No matter what."  
  
More things Ben can't let himself say.  He settles for, "And don't try to find me.  I mean it," before he hangs up fast.  One of his quarters drops back out of the machine and into the change slot.  
  
He could call back and hear his father breathing for another minute or two.  Probably his father could call him, *69 if he doesn't have caller ID.  But he's not going to call his father back, not right now.  And he knows his father won't try to call him.    
  
His mother would've, maybe.  His mother would have tracked him down, brought him back to Northville.  Maybe used him as some kind of weapon against the First Order, or at least tried to.  That's why he couldn't call her.  That's why it had to be his father.    
  
_I-75 to Gaylord, M-32 to Elmira.  Elmira Inn.  Find Maz._  
  
He hurries back to the Caprice, where Rey is waiting for him in the driver's seat.  He does his best to smile at her through the window, but this time, she's not smiling back.  It was probably a little too much to hope for, that she'd just go along with everything without question.  Rey was never really like that, no matter how much Plutt tried to make her obedient.    
  
Ben always liked that about her, but he has a feeling it's about to become really inconvenient.  
  
He unlocks the door, opens it, and stares at her with one eyebrow raised.  She looks back at him with clear, fearless eyes.  
  
"I have to pee," she says, which.  Okay.  That's not so bad.  She's not yelling, anyway, or causing a scene.  Could be worse.  
  
Ben shrugs and steps back and lets her out of the car.  She stands and waits, lets him close the car up behind her, take her hand and lead her into the rest stop proper.    
  
The moment the glass doors have closed behind them, Rey turns and starts staring at him again, still with that unimpressed look on her face.  "Where are we?  How come we're here?  Where's everyone else?  Why are you --"  
  
Shit.  "Do you have to pee?" Ben asks, looking down at her.  "Or do you have to ask me questions?  Because if you have to ask me questions, we could've done that in the car.  But if you need to go, bathroom's this way."  
  
He tugs on her hand, leading her towards the door marked women and Rey balks, digging her heels in.  "I don't want you coming with me."  
  
Really, it's not like he wants to go into the women's room either.  And there's no one in the building, he thinks.  There's no one in the rest room.  He thinks.  He doesn't know.  There's too much he doesn't know and that's why he can't let Rey out of his sight, not even for a second.  Not until he knows. "Then how're you gonna reach the sink to wash your hands?" he asks.  "Look at you.  You're a pipsqueak.  And I don't want you in my car with dirty hands.  So I'm gonna come with you and make sure you clean up right."  
  
Rey glares harder.  "I'm not a pipsqueak," she mutters, scowling up at him.  Then she sighs like she's a grownup and pushes the door open.  She can't quite get it all the way, so Ben reaches out to help her.  "You stay by the sinks," she adds, passing under his arm and through the opened doorway.  "I don't need help.  I'm not a baby.  And I'm not a pipsqueak, either."  
  
"Just go to the bathroom, Rey."  
  
She shuts the door hard; he can hear her fumbling with the lock a little bit.  There's a pause and then splashing, and he winces and closes his eyes and tries not to think about it too much.  There's other stuff, anyway -- what he's going to tell Rey when they get back to the car, how he's going to explain Maz; how he's going to explain everything.  He has a couple of ideas, a few things he managed to come up with during those moments of the drive when he wasn't frantically scanning the rearview for headlights behind him, panicking at every noise the car made, and forcing himself to keep going when all he wanted to do was turn around.  But it's not much, and he knows it.  
  
But Rey is five.  Five-year-olds, he tells himself, are not that smart.  Five-year-olds believe a lot of things if you say them with confidence.  
  
Of course, Rey is not like most five-year-olds.  
  
He just hopes he's a better liar than his dad.  
  
The toilet flushes; more fumbling with the stall door.  Finally, Rey emerges, tugging at her nightgown.  She marches up to the sinks where Ben is standing, imperious gaze fixed firmly on him; he shakes his head, grabs her around the waist with both hands, and lifts her up until she can reach the handles on the sink.  The running water reminds him that he's been in the car just as long as Rey; that he's held himself in check just as long.  But he holds her steady until the sink shuts off again, even carries her to the hot air dryer on the wall and holds her steady underneath the nozzle until it shuts off before he finally sets her down and says, "Okay.  I've gotta go, too.  You stay there, okay?"  
  
The look of sheer horror on Rey's face is almost enough to send Ben crumpling to the floor, laughing himself hysterical, but he bites it back.  Barely.  "This is the girls' room!" she hisses.  "You can't --"  
  
"Well, you can't go into the men's room," Ben snaps back, annoyed and amused and terrified and really starting to feel a little desperate.  "And I'm not leaving you alone in a rest stop in the middle of nowhere where just anyone can come and grab you, Rey!  So just...  Just stand by the sinks, and wait for me.  And if someone comes in, I want you to yell, okay?  I want you to yell as loud as you can.  Okay?"  
  
He's gotten loud; his voice echoing off the tiles.  Rey stares up at him, wide-eyed.  Then her gaze slowly lowers to the grip of the gun sticking out of the waistband of his jeans.  She stares at it a second, then looks back up at Ben.    
  
She doesn't say anything after that.  
  
Ben's not sure whether it's good or bad.  He tries not to think about it too much, just pushes himself into the nearest stall and locks the door firmly behind her.    
  
The moment he's inside, he hears the air dryer start up again, like Rey's trying to drown something out.  Probably she just doesn't want to hear him pee, so she's drowning out the sound of it.  Probably.  
  
He goes as fast as he can anyway, just in case.  He doesn't think she'd run, but --  
  
But.  
  
But she's still waiting when he comes out, standing beneath the air dryer; she watches him wash his hands (thoroughly -- he can't make her wash her hands and then not wash his own just as well), then steps aside to let him dry off.  When he's done, she lets him take her hand again and lead her, suddenly strangely obedient, back out of the bathroom.  
  
They go out to the vending machine, and he spends five of his last fifty dollars on stale donut holes and a Coke for each of them.  He should've asked his father for money.  Probably Han doesn't have any anyways.  As Ben heard about a million times, Han Solo never had money back when he was a kid and he did all right, so Ben will have to manage too.  Back in the car, Rey safely in the backseat and the gun stowed back in the glovebox, he pops a few donut holes into his mouth before passing the bag back to Rey so she can have the rest, dusts white powdered sugar on his jeans, opens his Coke to give himself a few more seconds to finish chewing, and then says, "Okay, look."  
  
Which sounds a lot like something Han Solo would say, but he'll worry about that later.  
  
"You remember during the last couple meetings when Leader Snoke was talking about what would happen if the Feds came for us?  How we'd all be guilty?  And in danger?"  Rey doesn't answer, just stares -- donuts on her lap, Coke clutched in both hands.  "That wasn't just talk, Rey.  There's something...  Something he wanted me to do.  I don't --  I don't want to get into it right now, but it was bad, and it felt...  wrong, I guess, and it would've gotten us all in a lot of trouble.  Real trouble.  Like Waco, or Ruby Ridge.  And I always do what Snoke tells me. You know that, Rey.  Always, even when I don't want to.  But this was so bad, and...  So I prayed.  I prayed really hard, and God heard me.  He did.  And he sent your mom to me.  She didn't know what Snoke wanted me to do; she didn't know anything at all, really, except that you and I are sort of friends.  And because we're friends, she asked me to get you out, in case anything bad did happen.  Like Patience's aunt and uncle got her out, and Christopher's parents' friends.  And a bunch of other people.    
  
"But your mom's like me.  She doesn't have people on the outside.  Just you, and she wanted you safe.  And she asked me to do it.  
  
"So I prayed some more, just to be sure.  And God told me that I should.  So that's what I'm doing, Rey.  I'm gonna take you someplace safe.  And I'm gonna stay with you, and protect you.  And hopefully everything ends okay and I can take you back to your mom again, but I don't know what's going to happen.  I just know that this is what I'm supposed to do, now.  This is what God wants for me.  And you.  To be safe, and okay, and...  Far, far from the First Order.  Far as we can go."  
  
And Rey just stares, and Ben should be happy about that because she's not fighting him, but he's not, exactly.  She's never looked at him that way before.  Like everyone else looks at him.  Like he's dangerous.  
  
"Did you...  Did you have any questions?" he asks, because he can't beg her to stop.  He wouldn't know how to start, and she probably wouldn't understand it anyway.  
  
"How did you know?" she asks, finally.  
  
"How did I know what?"  
  
A flicker of impatience in her eyes -- not much, but enough to make him hopeful.  "How did you know it was God?  Because Leader Snoke talks to God, and if he said something different, then --"  
  
There is a terrible, terrible blasphemy lurking behind his tongue, waiting to come out, but he can't bring himself to say it.  Not now.  Not to Rey.  Not even really to himself.  "Because God wouldn't want me to violate one of His commandments," Ben manages, finally.  "And that's what Snoke wanted me to do, and --  And that's wrong, Rey.  God doesn't make exceptions.  Not like that.  And...  It just felt different.  When Snoke talked to me, and then when I heard God for the first time.  It felt like...  Like everything that hadn't made any sense, and scared me, and felt wrong --  all of it went away.  And everything made sense.  And I wasn't scared, or angry, or anything."  She gives him a look, then, one that reminds him almost painfully of his mother, and he adds, "I mean it didn't last.  But in that moment, everything made sense.  And I knew.  And if you don't believe me, or if you think I'm wrong, then that's fine, I guess.  But I believe. And I'm not turning around, so.  You're kind of stuck with me, now.  Or you're gonna have to knock me out and steal the car.  But I'm not sure your legs are long enough to reach the pedals."  
  
Not so much as a flicker of a smile, or indignation, or anything.  Her eyes are wide and shiny, like she's about to cry, and Ben feels a huge lump forming in his throat.  "Rey," he says, and can't stop himself reaching out, hand stretching towards her.  
  
She doesn't back away.  Instead, she reaches out, her little hand slipping into his.  "She really asked you to take me?" she asks, her voice wobbly and scared and sort of hopeful all at once.  "She really wants you to keep me safe?"  
  
"Of course she does," Ben says, even though it's a total lie.  Rey's mom was never going to get her out of the compound, even if the whole army was outside.  That's why Ben had to take her with him.  "Why wouldn't she?"  
  
Rey's eyes fill up with tears; she wipes them away with a fist.  She nods, even as more tears spring up.    
  
Ben can't hug her where he is.  All he can do is stretch his arm back as far as he can, let her cling to his hand for a second.  "I'm gonna take care of you, Rey," he adds.  "Whatever I have to do to keep you safe and happy and everything.  I won't let you down.  I promise."  
  
"'Kay," she manages, finally, and squeezes his hand before letting go.    
  
Another car pulls into the rest stop, three spaces from theirs; a man in a plaid shirt stumbles out of it, heading straight to the building.  He doesn't even look at them, but still.  Ben's heart races a little faster.  It's time to go.  
  
But he keeps his voice level when he asks, "You want me to open your Coke for you?"  
  
Rey presses the cold bottle into his hands; he figures that's answer enough.  He takes it, twists the cap off, screws it back on loosely before passing it back.    
  
Once she's got it in her hands, he tears his eyes away from her face in the rearview and starts the car.    
  
"We'll get breakfast in Gaylord," he says, backing out of the spot carefully.  The truck driver still hasn't left his cab.  Probably still sleeping.  Probably.  "I think there's a Big Boy there.  Do you want pancakes, or waffles?"

 

*

 

Han Solo must have some money after all, or maybe he got some from Ben's mother, or Grandpa Organa, or maybe even Maz herself.  Because there's money in the big manila envelope Maz passes him, what looks like a lot of it (although Ben doesn't count it, not here in this dark, smoky room with the eyes of about eight dead deer staring down at him).    
  
He wonders if it's enough for the next five months.  
  
He wonders what he's going to do if the world doesn't actually end.    
  
"Even got you a clean car," Maz says, dangling a set of car keys in front of Ben's face.  "Easier than trying to change the registration and title for yours over to the new identity, and it'll throw off anyone looking for the old one.  I'll give you a couple minutes when we're through to get anything you need out of the old one."  
  
Ben thinks of how careful he'd been, smuggling those guns out of the First Order's armory one at a time, how long it had taken him; he wonders how the hell he's supposed to manage even getting them from one car to another in a few minutes, especially with Rey watching.  She's already suspicious, which he guesses he can't blame her for, but still.  If she realizes what he's done, stealing from the Order like that, it could start a bad chain reaction.  And he doesn't know how he'll stop it.  
  
Maz jingles the car keys, getting his attention.  "Of course," she adds, one eyebrow raised.  "You got something you need me to sell for you, I don't mind the extra work.  My commission's fair; you can ask your father if you don't believe me.  I'll make sure nothing gets back to you, and you won't have to drag the little one into any situation that might get nasty."  She glances back over her shoulder at where Rey sits, dipping a french fry in ketchup, frowning up at the television hanging in the corner above the bar.  "Or I could find you a babysitter, but I think you'd rather trust me with your merchandise than your friend."  
  
He'd rather not trust her at all.  The problem is, though, she isn't wrong.  He can't leave Rey alone, and he won't give her to strangers, not even for a second.  He doesn't even like sitting at this table, thirty feet away, while she sits on a barstool eating french fries with her feet swinging high above the floor.    
  
But the guns...  The guns are proof of something.  They're proof of lots of things.  She could turn him into the First Order; she could turn him in to the government; she could --  
  
"I'm not gonna turn you into the cops, if that's what you're worried about," Maz says, like she's reading his thoughts.  "Or whoever you're running from; your dad wasn't real clear.  Either way, though.  If I was that kind, your father wouldn't have gotten in near so much trouble, because he'd have been in jail before he was your age.  I trade merchandise, not secrets."  
  
Ben still can't find it in him to speak.  It's just -- Snoke used to do that, back in his office at Cranbrook, sitting in his big leather chair, hands on the arms.  He wasn't a big man; if he was sitting down and Ben was standing, Ben towered over him.  But he always made Ben feel so small, somehow.  And he'd look at Ben, and without Ben even speaking, he'd know.  Why Ben was there.  What he needed.  What to do and what to say to get him to let his guard now.  
  
And look where Ben is now.    
  
He drops the envelope onto the table and goes to push his chair back but Maz leans forward, stretching across the table to grab his wrist.  Her fingers are smooth and dry and warm and even through her thick glasses, he can see something in her dark eyes and he doesn't know what it is exactly, but suddenly everything feels...  different.  
  
"I'm sorry," Maz says, quieter.  "If I spooked you.  I read people; that's what I do.  That's why I never got into trouble like your dad did, and always had to pull him out.  Your dad's like you, face like an open book.  He used to try to lie to me, all the time.  Never worked.  He gets smirky when he's lying.  Like he thinks it's a joke."  Her eyes keep running over his face, back and forth.  Like an open book.  "They did a number on you, didn't they?  Those people you're running from.  You don't know what's you and what's them anymore.  You'll get it back, though.  You're tough.  Like your mother is.  I can see that in you, too."  
  
Something in his chest loosens, opening up.  "You knew my mother?" he asks.  
  
Maz smiles at him; behind her glasses, her small eyes get even smaller.  "Met her the same time I met you," she says.  "'Course, she was old enough to remember me.  Guess you weren't.  Younger than your friend there, maybe.  Small thing, you were.  Han said you'd grow up big, but I didn't believe him.  One time he was right and I wasn't.  'Cause look at you now."  She lets go of his wrist, finally, folds her hands on the table.  He wonders how old she is.  She looks old.  "I want to help you, Ben.  Not just because of your dad and your mom, although I'd do just about anything for those two idiots.  But you've got a long road ahead of you.  I'd like to smooth it out if I can.  But I guess if you don't trust me, then you don't and that's the way it is."  
  
He'd said pretty much the same thing to Rey, back in the car.  He wasn't exactly being honest with her then, though.  "Can you just," he says, and then stops, chews on his lip, works up his courage. Tries again.  "Can you just not say anything to me for a couple minutes?  Please?  I need to...  To think."  
  
"That's one thing your dad never tried," Maz says.  Then she leans back in her chair, hands dropping to her lap (the car key with them, Ben notes), and sighs.  "Okay," she says.  "I'll shut up now."  
  
It feels weird, meditating in front of people.  Ben usually does it in the room he shares with Hux ( _shared_ with Hux; he's not coming back to it again), and only ever when he knew Hux was going to be gone for a long time.  He doesn't like interruptions, and interruptions are all Hux seems to know how to do --  _you need to eat_ , or _are you really going to sit there all day_ or _Kylo I know this is important but there's a meeting and Snoke insists_.  Even that was enough to break his concentration, and now he's here, with people talking softly all around him and tinny country music coming from the radio in the corner and Maz watching him with small dark eyes and Rey so close but too far away for comfort.  And he doesn't have the time to really quiet his mind, to go deep the way he needs to.

But he still closes his eyes, folds his hands in his lap.  Lets his breath fill his chest, holds it there, then lets it out slow.  Looking for the dark, the quiet.  For the light inside the dark, and the voice inside the quiet.  
  
He gets:  Big hands gripping him around the waist, lifting up so he could touch the dry, leathery nose of a taxidermied moose.  Dust in his nose, making him sneeze, making his eyes itch; his dad's voice -- _Careful, Chewie_ \-- and his mother saying _And here you thought I'd be the worried one_ even as she hurries over with tissues.  Looking up, blinking as his mother presses tissues into his hands.  Maz is smiling at him from a distance, watching the adults fuss.  
  
_Blow_ , his mother tells him, and he's so distracted by the light shining off Maz's thick glasses that he actually just does it instead of swatting his mother aside and telling her he can do it himself.  
  
He opens his eyes.    
  
Maz looks almost exactly the same as she did then. Glasses and wrinkles and small dark eyes and all.  
  
_Chewie's big hands on his waist, holding him up, laughing high above the adults and the moose got bigger the closer he got and he wasn't even scared at all he wondered if he could sit on it if Chewie could get him that high._  
  
He Ieans in, and Maz leans in too.  "I took some guns," he says, quietly as he can.  "I...  There's a man up here.  Olson.  Norm Olson.  I figured I could sell to him 'cause he's greedy, but he's also a coward.  So I knew he'd take the guns, but I also knew he'd be too scared to tell Snoke he saw me after.  And he wouldn't talk to police or anything, so.  It seemed like my best bet."  
  
"I'll be honest with you, son," Maz says, shaking her head.  "That's... That's not bad.  That's not bad at all.  If it wasn't for the little one, I might even suggest you do it.  But.  There's a difference between her seeing you talk to me and her seeing you sell guns to a stranger, and that difference is gonna cause problems down the line.  You might be better off letting me handle this, if you think you can trust me."  
  
It should be the hardest thing he's ever done.  It's still pretty hard.  But it's not the hardest thing, and that worries him a little.  "I trust you," he says, finally.  "So.  Um.  What kind of commission are we talking about?"  
  
"For you, five percent.  Like I said, very reasonable.  But there are two conditions."  
  
He tries not to feel like he's just been tricked into something.  He tries to believe he can find a way out of this.  "What are the conditions?"  
  
Maz smiles at him, leans across the table to pat his cheek.  "You stick around long enough for me to send someone to get you a change of clothes," she says.  "And don't bother pretending you have one; your friend's in a nightgown."  Ben glances back guiltily at Rey again, at her bare feet dangling from underneath the dirty, ragged hem of her nightshirt.  "You wouldn't have brought her in here like that if you had another option.  And second, you let me buy you lunch while you're waiting.  Potato burger's not as bad as it sounds, and you look like you could do with some feeding.  Deal?"  
  
He's probably going to regret this.  "Deal," he says, and holds his hand out for Maz to shake.  Small as her hand is, her grip is strong.  He holds on a little longer anyway.  "And, um.  Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome."  She squeezes his hand in both hers for a moment, then lets go.  "All right.  Let's see to getting you fed and clothed, and then you can get moving again."  
  
  
*  
  
  
Rey loses it when she sees the pants.    
  
It starts with just a quiver of her lip, her eyes going shiny and round, and when she asks "Do I have to wear them?" Ben doesn't quite realize what's going on.  
  
He reaches back into the bag and pulls out another pair.  "There's these," he says.  They're pink, and stretchy, and there's a top to match, and actually, the more he looks at them --  "Although I guess maybe these are pajamas," he says, and sets them down in front of her.  "What do you think?  These are pajamas, right?"  
  
And Rey stares at him with the most incredible horror in her eyes before throwing herself into his lap, wrapping her arms around his waist as far as she can and wailing, "I'm sorry!  I'm sorry I was bad!  Please, please, I'll be good now.  I'll be so good, please --"  
  
"Rey?"  He stares down at her tangled hair, her face buried in his t-shirt and her little hands clutching tightly like she's expecting him to pull away from her.  It takes him a little while to realize that maybe, if she's crying and hugging him, he should hug her back.  He wraps his arms around her as best as he can, careful not to squeeze too tight.  She's strong, but still, she's small.  "Rey, what is it?  What's wrong?"  
  
"I won't be bad!  I promise!  I'll be so good and so quiet and...  And I'll be good!  I'll be really, really good.  I promise, I promise, I promise."  She starts sobbing then, crying so hard her whole body shakes and all Ben can do is curl around her, resting his cheek on her hair and rubbing her back with one hand and trying so hard to just _think_.    
  
It's not easy.  Rey's crying is getting increasingly loud and hiccupy, and he thought he'd run out of panic by now but it turns out he still had some left and the more Rey cries, the worse it gets.  
  
Maz gave him a cell phone, so she could let him know when the guns were sold.  He could use it to call his father -- he could --  
  
Han Solo was never that great with tears, and Rey needs him now, not fifteen minutes from now when he's armed with his father's bad advice.    
  
"You're not bad, Rey," he tells her, and feels himself starting to rock back and forth.  Which is good, maybe.  Moms rock their babies.  His mother rocked him, he's pretty sure.  Before she went back to work, anyway.  "Rey, Rey, listen to me.  You're not bad.  You were always good.  You're so good.  You're a really, really good kid, Rey."  
  
"But they sent me away!"  She lets go of him with one hand, punches him in the ribs with surprising strength, and it kind of hurts and he doesn't know what to do about that because he's never been hit by a five year-old girl before, so he just holds on tighter, trapping her hands under his arms so she can't hit him again.  "They sent me away, just like Uncle Plutt said they would, and now I can't be a Christian and I can't go to Heaven and I have to wear pants like bad girls do and you're going to take me to Foster Care and they'll hit me and --"  
  
"No, Rey!"  It comes out loud, way too loud, and angry, and Rey stiffens up and goes very still and Ben makes himself take a deep breath, close his eyes, and let it out slow.  He's panicking, and he's furious ( _just like Uncle Plutt said they would_ ), and he just wants to go out and shoot something, but he can't do that.  Rey needs him.  He needs to be calm.  For Rey.  "No, no, no.  No.  I'm not taking you anywhere.  I'm not gonna leave you with anyone else.  You're going to stay with me, and you're gonna be safe.  I'm going to take such good care of you.  I promise."  
  
"But you can't stay!"  Rey starts squirming, like she's trying to punch him again or push him away but Ben doesn't let go.  He needs to prove that he's not going to; this is where that starts.  He's pretty sure.  "Snoke needs you.  Everyone needs you.  You can't stay with me.  You have to go."  
  
"I'm not going anywhere," Ben says, and holds onto Rey until she stops trying to get away from him, stops fighting.  "I don't care what anyone else needs.  You need me.  So I'm staying with you."  
  
"But the world's gonna end."  Rey's voice is so soft now.  She's still crying, though, hiccuping into his shirt.  
  
Ben loosens his grip a little, just enough to let her go limp against him, head tucked into his chest, one hand still clutching his shirt.  She's so little.  She's so young.  None of this is fair.    
  
"No, it's not," he says, and tries to sound like he believes it.  "It's not ending.  Everything's just getting started.  You'll see."  
  
She doesn't argue anymore, but she keeps crying.  Ben just holds her, strokes her hair as best he can, tries to work some of the tangles out with his fingers.  He hopes Maz bought a comb.  And toothpaste.  Toothbrushes.    
  
He'll worry about that later.    
  
"We'll go to the store tomorrow," he promises, rocking Rey back and forth, combing out the tangles in her hair with his fingers.  She sniffles into his shirt.  "I'll buy you all the skirts you want.  If that's what you want, Rey.  I'm gonna take care of you.  I promise."  
  
He rocks her to sleep just like that, curled around her, whispering promises into her hair.  When she's finally out, he eases her down onto the bed, stretches out next to her, watching her sleeping face.  It's funny, the way it feels.  He knows that he's probably in more trouble than he's ever been in his life, which is saying a lot.    
  
But, maybe for the first time, he's sure he's doing the right thing.  Or at least as close as he can come.    
  
He watches Rey sleep until he can't keep his eyes open anymore.  
  
  
*  
  
  
"Kylo."  Hands on his face, patting gently.  "Kylo, wake up."  
  
_Never put all your eggs in one basket, Kylo.  I always had a backup plan._  
  
Snoke's dry chuckle and the gun heavy in Rey's little hands and she looks at him and says, _Look how good I am_ and he can't stop her he can't move he can't do anything he can't --  
  
"Kylo!"  
  
His eyes snap open.  Rey's right in front of him, her nose still red, eyes swollen from crying, hair tangled all around her and Ben flinches back, breath stuttering, hands pushing at the blankets as he scoots away, up to the headboard.  Rey draws back, stares at him, and Ben closes his eyes and tries very hard to calm down.    
  
"Sorry," he says, still a little breathless.  He can still see the gun in her little hands, how hard she had to fight to keep it steady.  Just a dream, though.  Just a dream.  "I...  What time is it?"  
  
Rey shrugs, still kneeling on the bed next to him, hands carefully folded on her lap.  Like she's afraid to touch him now.  He really wishes he hadn't flinched.  "You didn't sleep because you were driving," she says.  "So I thought you should sleep now that you're not.  Except then you got loud like you were having a bad dream so I had to wake you up."  
  
"Okay," he says, even though that's not really what he asked her.  "Thank you."  He stares at her a little longer -- dirty nightgown, swollen eyes, blotchy face and all -- just to remind himself that she's not with Plutt or Snoke anymore, that she's here with him, that she's safe, and then finally manages to squint at the clock.  **7:04**.  Not that late, really.  "We should get dinner," he says.  "Pizza, maybe.  There should be a phone book --"  He straightens up, reaches for the drawer on the bedside table, and then stops.  Blinks.  
  
Rey has taken all the money that Maz gave them and stacked it into even piles on the other bed.  It looks like a lot, all spread out like that.  
  
"Counting by twenty is like counting by twos," Rey says, and Ben turns to look back at her.  "Only with a zero on the end.  But the numbers got too high for me so I split it up smaller.  Into hundreds.  There's fourteen of those, and then the last one's only got sixty."  
  
"I had to spend some on the room," Ben says.  He feels a little dazed.  Not just from the money, but.  He forgets, sometimes, just how weird Rey can be. 

Still, fifteen stacks of a hundred dollars each.  It's a lot of money.  No way that came from his dad.    
  
"We should leave it this way, in little stacks," Rey continues, creeping a little closer to him.  "And then hide it like that.  That way it's harder for someone to steal all of it.  Uncle Plutt had a lot of hiding places in our old house, before we moved to the compound.  He had so many he forgot some of them.  I tried to help him remember, but that made him mad, so I stopped."  
  
It's a lot to think about; still dream-fogged, Ben doesn't bother trying.  He just sets a hand on Rey's back and says, "Well, you can help me as much as you want.  I don't mind."  He sits there for a moment, on the floral bedspread in this small, wood-paneled room, staring at the money on the other bed, before he realizes.  "Only we probably shouldn't start hiding it now, since we've only got this room for a night."  
  
He looks at Rey.  She looks back at him, thoughtful.  
  
"Do we have enough money to buy a house?"  
  
"Not right now."  They could rent something, maybe.  For a couple of months, no longer.  $1460 is a lot of money for a night or a week, but not for the rest of their lives.  And that's what this is, assuming the First Order doesn't find them and the police don't find them and the world doesn't end.  
  
The rest of their lives.  He can't even begin to imagine it.  He's still not sure what tomorrow is going to look like.  
  
"We'll put some in the car," Rey says, finally.  "That's ours.  And you can have some, and I can have some, and that way --"  
  
"No."  Too loud, again.  Too sharp, again.  Rey doesn't pull away exactly, but she goes tense under his hand.  "If someone found out you were carrying that kind of money, Rey, they'd hurt you to get it.  I'm not letting anything happen to you.  I promised.  I want you to help me, I do, but not if it means you'll get hurt."  
  
Rey stares at him like he's not even speaking English, then sighs and turns her attention to the money again.  "Two hiding places isn't very many," she says, morose.  
  
"We'll find more," Ben says, and doesn't mention that it won't matter for all that long.  They need a roof over their heads and gas for the car; they need food and clothes and toothpaste and combs.  If Maz can sell the guns for them, that'll help, but that's still only a few months.  And he can't -- he _won't_ \-- run to his parents every time he needs money.  If nothing else, it'll make them too easy to find.  
  
He needs a job.    
  
"Eventually," he adds, and if Rey notices the lag, she doesn't show it.  "For right now, we'll use the car.  Some in the glovebox, some in the trunk under the spare tire.  Some in with your clothes, some with mine.  And then I'll carry enough with me so if someone manages to steal the whole car, we'll still be okay."  For a few days, maybe.  For a week at most.  
  
Rey frowns at the money a little longer, heaves a deep sigh.  "Cars are too easy to steal," she says.  "We really need a house."  
  
"Well, everyone starts somewhere.  Besides, I don't know if anyone actually will try to steal our car.  It's pretty ugly."  Granted, Maz's boxy old Accord is actually a much better car than the Caprice Snoke gave him, but that's not saying much.  "And old."  
  
He wonders how long they have before it breaks down for the first time.  
  
He's probably panicking again.  
  
As if she knows, somehow, Rey leans into him a little.  "I guess it is pretty ugly," she says.  "Can we still have pizza?"  
  
"Sure, Rey."  For tonight, anyway.  Not every night.  That's not healthy.  He can cook, a little.  He'll have to learn to cook more.  But they don't have a kitchen to cook in anyway, so.  "Let's order a pizza."

 

*  
  
  
There's a brush and a comb in the K-Mart bag Maz gave them, as well as toothbrushes and toothpaste, soap and shampoo and conditioner.  Which is good, because the tiny bottles of product supplied by the hotel aren't nearly enough for Rey's long hair.  Ben slathers it with conditioner, working it through with careful hands, getting as many knots out as he possibly can.  He wonders if he still remembers how to braid hair.  His mom taught him once.  Long brown hair like Rey's, only thicker.  He always liked the way it felt in his hands.  
  
"Ben," Rey says again, testing the name.  Tasting it, maybe.  "Like Ren?"  
  
"Other way around."  Maybe.  He never asked Snoke where his new name came from.  He never asked Snoke about a lot of things.  He wonders if things would've been different if he had.  
  
Probably not.  Snoke was always so good at erasing his doubts.  Making everything seem inevitable.  Horrible, maybe, but inevitable.  
  
"My parents named me Ben," he says.  "Kylo Ren -- that's what Snoke called me.  I don't want that name anymore."  The strangest thing is that he really doesn't, either.  Sometime early this morning, maybe even the first time he heard Han Solo say _Ben_ , rough and frightened and relieved over the phone from Warren to Houghton Lake, he just...  stopped.  
  
It doesn't necessarily mean he wants to be Benjamin Charles Organa anymore, but Ben Keller's not that bad, as names go.    
  
He stands up, starts the tap running in the sink, fills up a cup to rinse Rey's hair with.  It's long; the ends swirl in the bathwater behind her.  He wonders if he should empty the tub so she's in clean water, but that seems like it would take too long and it's already getting late.  Probably she should've been in bed an hour ago.  
  
"Close your eyes," he tells her.  "Tip your head back."  
  
It's hard to rinse her long hair with the little hotel cups full of water.  But Rey's patient through the whole process, sitting there quiet and obedient with her head tipped back and her eyes tight shut and one hand covering them, just to make sure no conditioner gets in.  She doesn't move until Ben tells her, "Okay.  I think we're done.  I'll get you a towel."    
  
It isn't until he's got her out of the tub and dry, dressed in the t-shirt Maz bought him (dragging on the floor, collar falling off her shoulders, but at least it's clean) with a towel around her hair that she says, finally, "My mom named me Rey-of-Sunshine."  
  
"I know," he says.  It's simultaneously the most ridiculous name he's ever heard and the most appropriate.  "I wish you could've kept it.  But it's too distinctive.  And Reyanne's not bad."  
  
They sit on the bed; he unwraps the towel from her hair and drops it on the floor so he can start combing her hair.  There's still a few snarls, but it's not as bad now as it was before.  Rey never flinches, even when Ben knows he's pulling too hard.  
  
"She didn't tell you to take me," Rey says, flat and too calm, and Ben freezes, almost dropping the comb.  "She doesn't care what happens to me, anymore.  She only cares about Uncle Plutt.  I don't matter."  
  
"Yes you do," Ben says, and that should be loud -- it should be angry, but he doesn't have the energy anymore.  He just sounds sad.  
  
Those last few months, with his mom so busy with her campaign and fighting with Hux's dad and fighting with his dad and Han Solo so busy pretending he didn't care and wasn't guilty and didn't want to apologize and Cranbrook was so hard and it felt like there was no one he could ask for help, no one to turn to.  Not even Uncle Luke.  All he had was just Hux, and even Hux pawned him off on Snoke as soon as he could.    
  
Snoke listened, though. Snoke helped. Snoke told him he could change the world. And then Snoke told him exactly what that meant, and everything fell apart all over again.  
  
"I don't matter to her," Rey says, head down, eyes fixed on the bedspread.  "I thought I could.  If I was good.  If I did everything Uncle Plutt said.  I thought she'd love me again.  But she won't.  She never will."  
  
"You don't know that," Ben says, and hears his father's voice again, breaking over the telephone lines.  _Ben_ , he said, and Ben knew in that moment that Snoke had lied about more than just the importance of Kylo Ren.  He'd lied about everything.  All of it.  He doesn't want to lie to Rey like that.  Not if he can help it.  "Maybe...  Maybe once it's all over.  The First Order, all of it.  She'll forget about Plutt.  And I can take you back to her, and...  And she'll want to be your mom again.  And it'll be okay."  
  
Rey doesn't move, or say anything, or do anything, but somehow Ben knows she doesn't believe him.  He doesn't know how to convince her, either.  He wishes he did, but he doesn't.  
  
At a loss for anything better to do, he goes back to combing the tangles out of her hair.  
  
"I _hated_ the First Order," Rey adds, with sudden, vehement passion.  "I hated it.  And I hate Uncle Plutt.  And I don't want to go back to him and I don't want to go back to the First Order, ever.  I hated it there.  I really, really --"  
  
She starts sniffling again and Ben sets the comb down at his side, wraps his arms around her, resting his chin on her cold, wet hair.  
  
"It's okay," he says.  "You're not going back.  I won't let you."  
  
"But it's _bad_."  Her voice is getting that sharp, hysterical edge again, and Ben's starting to think that just holding on to her won't be enough.  "We won't go to Heaven if we're not with the First Order.  We won't be saved.  I'm supposed to want to be there.  I'm supposed to --"  
  
"Snoke wanted me to kill somebody." 

Rey goes completely still; Ben's not sure if that's a good sign or a bad sign, but he figures it's too late to stop now. 

"A cop.  I don't -- He said he was going to give me my target the day everything was supposed to happen, but obviously I ran away before then.  The gun, the car -- they were so I could fulfill my mission.  My purpose.  To be the one to start the war."  
  
_Don't be afraid._   He said it like he was talking about a test, or an essay.  Homework.  _I've always said you could do anything you set your mind to, Kylo Ren.  You'll start this war for us, the most righteous war of all.  And you'll win it, too.  It's all within your grasp now._  
  
"I couldn't do it," he adds, even though he's pretty sure it was already obvious.  "I couldn't -- All those people, Rey.  People like Maz, and my father, and my uncle Chewie, and --  I know he said that they were all our enemies, but what if they're not?  What if they're just people, just normal people, and I start this war and --  I just don't think they deserve to die, Rey.  I just don't."  
  
When she speaks, her voice is so quiet he almost doesn't hear it, even though he's wrapped around her like a blanket.  "But Leader Snoke --"  
  
"Snoke lied, Rey."  And that's it.  That's the most damning thing Ben could possibly say.  There's no going back from that.  "He lied to me about so many things, and I didn't even know, but --"  
  
"No!"  Rey tears herself from his grip with surprising strength, almost tumbling from the bed with the force of it.  Ben reaches out to catch her, and she slaps him hard on the arm.  "Don't touch me!  You're wrong!  Leader Snoke didn't lie, he never lies, he --"  
  
"I told him you had promise."  He's getting loud again, can't seem to stop himself.  He's so angry -- at Snoke, at Rey for still believing him, at himself -- "I told him you were smart, and skilled, and you could do great things for the First Order if Plutt would just lay off you for five seconds and he said he would take care of it and he didn't, did he?  He didn't say a damn thing to Plutt.  Plutt was breaking you, Rey.  You're so much better than this.  Long skirts and long hair and...  You could do so much more and he promised me he'd help you and he _lied_ \-- he lied about you and he lied about me and he --"  
  
"Stop it!"  Rey practically throws herself at the other bed, burying her face in the pillows like she's trying to shut him out.  He can still hear her voice, muffled, saying "No, no, no --"  
  
"Snoke is a liar," Ben calls, and hates himself for hurting her but somehow can't seem to make himself stop. "He's a liar, and he's a bad person, and he doesn't speak for God.  I prayed about it, Rey.  I prayed and God answered me and he took me to you.  God wants better for you.  And I'm going to do what God wants.  And I don't care if you hate me or not."  
  
Rey just starts crying again, and it doesn't really matter whether or not she hates him in that moment, because Ben's pretty sure he already hates himself.  It doesn't mean he's going to back down on any of it.  It just feels awful.    
  
He takes a deep breath, tries to calm down a little.  It's been a long day; they're both tired.  She doesn't mean it, really.  She's just scared.    
  
"Rey," he says, sliding to the edge of the bed, one bare foot touching the beige carpet.  "Rey, it's gonna be all right.  We're going to --"  
  
" _No_."  One word, that's it, and then she goes back to crying again.    
  
He wants to keep going.  He wants to stand up, sit down on the bed next to her, rub her back until she stops crying.  He wants to retroactively erase the whole conversation and go back to combing her hair.  If she sleeps on it like this, it'll all be tangled up again by tomorrow morning.  And if she's still mad at him then, it'll get worse.  And it'll keep getting worse, and worse, and then he'll have to cut it all off and she'll probably get mad at him about all of it.  
  
It's stupid.  It's all so stupid.  
  
"Fine," he mutters, and flops back on the bed.  Tears fill his eyes, hot and stinging, and he blinks them away.  He doesn't need to cry about this.  Rey is confused and scared but she'll come around and it'll be fine.  And even if she doesn't, he's not taking her back to the First Order and she'll be glad, in the end.  She'll be grateful.  Because he's doing what's best for her and some day she'll see that and when she does it's going to be fine. Everything's going to be fine.  He doesn't have anything to cry about.  
  
It's just that he can't seem to stop leaking tears, and there's this tightness in his chest and his breath is hitching and Rey hates him and he's run away from Snoke and he's run away from home and he's in this weird wood-paneled room in Boyne Falls and it's too small and the beds are too big and he's going to run out of money and he's terrified that the world is going to end and he's terrified that it's not and --  
  
He lets out one awful, choked noise before rolling over (just like Rey, and isn't that great, how he's acting like a five year-old) and burying his face in the gross hotel bedspread.  The fabric is scratchy and it smells faintly of cigarette smoke.  He can't stop crying.  
  
He wants to go home.  
  
He doesn't even know where that is anymore.  
  
He wraps his arms around his head to block out as much noise as he can because he doesn't want Rey to hear him and he cries into the scratchy polyester of the cheap hotel bedspread, and he doesn't stop for a long time.    
  
When it's all over and done with, when he's worn himself out and is starting to drift off to sleep, he hears Rey say, quietly, "Are you gonna take me back to the First Order?"  
  
It wakes him up, anyway.  
  
"No," he says, but it's too muffled by the blanket and his arms for her to hear him.  He groans, pushes himself up off the bed (the bedspread has a gross faceprint of him on it, all tears and snot), wipes his nose with his bare arm and then groans again and wipes it off on the bedspread.  Housekeeping is going to hate them.  "No, Rey," he says again.  "I'm not taking you back to the First Order.  I promised I wouldn't."  
  
She's sitting on the edge of the bed, feet dangling over the side, face as red and blotchy as it was before.  He doubts he looks any better.  "I made you mad," she says.  "I talked back.  It was wrong.  It was bad."  
  
Ben just shrugs.  "I've done worse."  God, towards the end, some of the fights he had with Han.  Not with his mother; she was busy anyway, and had so much important work to do, and was so tired.  But he said a lot of things to Han.  Some things, maybe, he shouldn't have said.  "I made you a promise, Rey.  I can't go back on that just because we fought.  That would be way worse than you talking back to me."  
  
Rey sniffles.  She's getting that look again, the one that means he's pushing too far.  Saying things she doesn't want to hear.  It doesn't make sense -- she should be happy he's not mad, she should be glad to hear that she's not in trouble -- but he doesn't want another fight.  He's tired of crying, and she probably is, too.  
  
"How about I finish combing your hair," he says, because as much as he'd rather just go to bed he doesn't want to have to use the rest of their conditioner detangling Rey's hair tomorrow morning, "and I'll braid it, so it doesn't get so messy while you sleep, and then we can go to bed.  And in the morning, we'll go buy you some skirts so you don't have to wear pants all the time.  Okay?"  
  
He can't tell if Rey is looking at him suspiciously or if it's just that she's so swollen up from crying that she can't really open her eyes right anymore.  It doesn't matter much, anyway.  All that matters is that she slides off her bed, stopping only to pick the comb up off the floor before climbing up next to him.  
  
Ben scoots back so she can sit in front of him, legs curled up behind him, one ankle pressed into the wet patch where his tears soaked into the bedspread, and goes back to combing the tangles out of Rey's hair.  
  
It's not actually as bad as he thought it would be.    
  
He guesses that's something.  
  
  
*  
  
  
He knows he shouldn't keep spending money on newspapers, but he can't seem to stop himself.  
  
He buys books for Rey, too, but that's different.  She's five and she needs things to do and he can't park her in a hotel room in front of the television because she wasn't allowed to watch TV after Uncle Plutt married her mother and she's still following his rules even now that she's free although Ben's not sure why -- but she'll read books, at least.  And it stops her from asking questions that Ben can't answer (or is bound to answer in ways that make her burst into tears, and he's trying really hard not to do that too often).  Except that leaves him with time on his hands, and he can't have the TV because Rey hates it, and he has books too but he can't focus on them.  So he buys newspapers  
  
He doesn't really read the newspapers either, though.  Just the headlines.  
  
There's nothing for three days.  
  
Sunday, he finds it.    
  
They're staying at a place called the Downtown Motel, back in Gaylord (he likes Gaylord -- everyone here seems like they're passing through, just a rest stop on the way before it's back on I-75, north to Sault Ste. Marie or back down south to Detroit or Ohio or maybe even all the way to Florida, and that feels safe somehow in a way that more settled places don't, quite).  Rey's on her bed with the first _Harry Potter_ in her hands, because apparently Uncle Plutt never got around to warning her against witchcraft, and Ben is on his bed with the Detroit Free Press.    
  
It's not on the front page; it's not even in the first section.  It's buried in the second part, bottom right corner, almost hidden by a big article about Michigan's Y2K Readiness and something smaller about Jack Kevorkian.  Four short paragraphs, not even a picture to go with them.  It's a buried, hidden thing.  No one else would even notice it.  
  
But Ben knows.    
  
_And another, a red horse, went out; and to him who sat on it was granted to take peace from the earth._  
  
This is just the breaking of the Seal, though.  This isn't the start of the war.  That's later, that's not until --  
  
_Funeral services have not yet been scheduled._  
  
"Kylo?" Rey asks.  She's set her book down on the bed, open, the pages getting rumpled.  "Sorry," she adds, in a second.  "Ben.  I'm sorry.  I forgot again.  I'm really sorry."  
  
He can't reassure her.  All he can do is stare.  There's a rustling noise from somewhere -- it's the newspaper in his hands.  It's shaking.  He's shaking.  
  
"Ben?" Rey asks again, and this time, she sounds scared.  
  
He doesn't let himself think about what he's going to do.  He grabs Maz's cellphone off the bedside table, vaults off the bed, and throws himself into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and slumping to the floor with his back pressed against it.  He's not even sure Rey's going to follow him; she's already probably scared of him again.  But still.  She doesn't need to see this, what he's about to do.  
  
What he has to do.  
  
He stares at the phone for a second that seems to hang in the air forever, and then starts dialing his dad's number.    
  
"Hello?"  
  
Oh God, oh God, oh God, it's his mom.  He should hang up, he should -- he should --  
  
He _can't_.  
  
"Hello?" she asks again, and Ben forces himself to breathe, to speak.  
  
"I need to talk to Dad," he says, words tumbling out over each other.  "Please, just --  Just let me talk to him, please, it's important.  Please, Mom."  
  
"Okay."  Her voice is quiet and breathy and she already sounds close to tears.  "I'll get him for you.  Just let me..."  There's a weird sound as she covers the phone up with something, some muffled words, and then finally, he hears Han Solo's voice.  
  
"Ben?  What is it?  What happened?"  
  
It won't come out.  He knows what he needs to say, the words are there, but --

He tries another way.  "I can trust you, right?  I can...  I can trust you.  You'll help me, right?"  
  
"Anything you need, kiddo."  His dad's voice is rough, scratchy.  Worried.  "Anything at all."  
  
Still won't work.  Not enough.  Keep trying.  "Snoke," he says.  "He --  He was lying to me.  He's not a good person.  He wasn't...  He wanted me to hurt people.  For him.  To make him more powerful.  He tried to dress it up, make it sound better, but...  He was lying.  Wasn't he, Dad?  He was lying to me."  
  
"Yeah," Han says.  "He was.  He...  Ben, you don't owe him anything.  You don't need to protect him.  So if there's something you need to tell me, something he did --"  
  
Close.  He's close now.  "This is the right thing," he says, and it's not a question except for where it is.  "I'm doing the right thing."  
  
For once, his father actually gets it.  "You're doing the right thing," he repeats, voice firmer now.  "And I'm really proud of you, Ben.  For doing this.  This is the right thing to do."  
  
This is the right thing to do.  Not the horsemen, not the sword, not the war.  Stopping it before it gets started.  Not letting the other seals be broken.  This is the right thing to do.  
  
"In the Free Press," he says.  "Second section.  Bottom right.  There's a police officer --  They killed him, Dad.  The First Order.  I don't know who it was, maybe Hux, maybe...  Hopefully not.  But they killed a police officer, Dad, and they're not going to stop.  They're going to wait, until the funeral, when all the other cops are there, and politicians, and lawyers, and everybody, and they're going to --  People are going to die, Dad.  A lot of people are going to die, and I can't --  I thought maybe they'd stop but they're not going to stop and I can't -- I _have_ to --"  
  
"It's okay," his dad says, quickly, and Ben falls silent.  He's breathing hard, like he's been running for his life.  His throat hurts.  Was he shouting?  He's not sure.  If he was, if Rey heard --  "Ben, listen to me, it's gonna be okay.  No one's going to die.  I'm going to take care of this, all right?  You can trust me.  I won't let you down."  
  
He fights so hard to keep the first sob locked in his chest that when it finally comes out, it feels like it's tearing something.  "But I don't --  The compound, Dad, there's still kids.  Not a lot, but --"  
  
"And they're going to be fine, Ben."  His father's voice is steady and calm and soothing, and Ben just needs to see his face so badly, and he can't stop crying.    
  
God, what has he done?  What has he done, what has he --  
  
"This was the right thing to do," his father continues, and Ben clutches the phone to his ear and curls his knees up to his chest and sobs again.  "You're doing the right thing.  Whatever Snoke said would happen if you told, whatever he threatened you with --  it's not true.  It's just talk.  He was lying to you, Ben.  I'm not gonna do that.  Lord knows I've got my flaws, but that's never been one of them.  I promise you, your mom and I are going to make sure no one gets hurt because of this.  You can trust us.  You can trust me.  I won't let you down."  
  
Snoke promised to fight to the last man.  He said they'd go down like Waco, in a blaze of glory.  Hux, Rey's mom, the last of the kids still there --  
  
"Trust me," his dad says again, and Ben tries.  God, how he tries.  
  
"I'm scared, Dad," he says, tears streaming down his face.    
  
"I know."  His father's voice is so heavy.  Ben lets it weigh him down, keep him where he is, curled up on the floor of a motel room bathroom in the middle of nowhere.  "You've got every right to be.  But this is the right thing to do, Ben.  You're saving lives here.  And I'm so proud of you for this.  I'm so very proud."  
  
"I just don't want anyone to die."    
  
"That's because you're a good person."    
  
His dad keeps talking, but Ben loses track of it -- there's a tap at the door, and then Rey's voice, quiet, saying, "Ben?  Can I come in?"  
  
He doesn't want her to see him like this.    
  
He doesn't want her to be alone if she needs something, either.  
  
"Second," he manages, loud enough to be heard through the door, and then tells his dad, "Dad, I'm sorry; I gotta -- Rey needs me, I have to go."  
  
A long sigh.  "Sure thing, kid," his father says, and then, "Look.  I don't want you to worry about this.  I'm going to take care of it.  You might...  You might do better if you stay away from newspapers for a while.  TV, too.  No CNN.  I'll -- I'll have Maz give you the all-clear when it's over, and you can call me if you want to then.  She knows how to reach you, right?  That's what she said.  If she needs to, she can get a hold of you."  
  
"Yeah."  He wants his dad to call him, not Maz.  He doesn't know how to ask, though.  "Yeah, that's...  Okay."  
  
Rey taps at the door again.  "Ben?  I need to talk to you."  
  
It's so grown up that he almost laughs.  He feels like he's going to throw up.  Rey heard; she knows; she'll never trust him again.  And if he's wrong -- if Snoke was right, if Ben's just --  
  
"I love you, kiddo," his dad says, and Ben has to swallow down a huge lump in his throat.  "Thank you for calling me.  Thank you for trusting me.  I won't let you down.  I promise."  
  
"I love you too," Ben whispers, and sort of hopes his dad didn't hear him. Sort of hopes he did.  "Thank you.  Bye."  
  
He hangs up before his dad can repeat himself again, reaches up and sets the phone on the counter so he can't step on it, wipes at his face with both hands.    
  
"I'm not mad," Rey calls, from the other side of the door.  "Ben?  Please let me in."  
  
"Just a second," he says again, and pushes up slowly to his feet.  He wipes his eyes again, not that it helps.  But he figures he owes it to Rey to try, at least.    
  
Finally, he takes a deep breath and opens the door.  
  
About a second later, Rey's arms are wrapped around his knees and her face is pressed to his jeans.    
  
"Rey?" he asks, still sniffling a little.  
  
"Snoke lied," she says.  "The world's not gonna end.  I'm glad you saved those people.  It was the right thing to do."  
  
He has to rest one hand on the sink just to hold himself up.  He'd just let himself collapse, but he doesn't want to crush Rey.  "But your mom --" he says, because she's still there.  She'll be there as long as Plutt is.  She won't leave.  
  
"She'll be fine."  Rey sounds so sure that Ben feels himself wavering, weakening.  He's so tired, and nothing is what he expected it to be and he doesn't know who he is anymore.  "It's all gonna be fine, Ben.  The world's not going to end.  We'll be fine."  
  
He can't stand up any longer.  He crumples, Rey somehow shifting with him so she doesn't get pulled down when he does, stays standing and lets him fall to her level.  His head lands on her shoulder and he drags her in tight and just holds on -- not for her, but for him.  Because he needs someone, and she's all he has.    
  
"You're okay," Rey tells him, and he bursts into loud, helpless sobs.  "You're okay now.  You're going to be okay."  
  
He wants to promise her that he will, but he can't seem to get the words out.    
  
She stays with him until it's done, until he's all out of sobs, and then she urges him up to his feet again, walks him out of the bedroom and watches him climb back into bed.  She even tugs the covers up to his chin.  It's too hot for that, really, and he's already sweating, but he doesn't push himself free, just stays where she's put him.  
  
"I'll set an alarm," she says.  "So you'll be up in time for dinner.  And I'll wake you up if you have bad dreams.  I promise."  
  
"Rey," he says.  "I'm really sorry."  It's all he can think of to say.  He wishes he could be more specific, but there's too much to apologize for.  If he starts listing things now, he'll probably never stop.  
  
She rises up on tiptoe, leans in to kiss him on the forehead.  Then she turns away and starts fiddling with the alarm clock.  
  
Ben watches her for as long as he can, but he used up everything he had turning Snoke in.  He's asleep before she's finished climbing up into her own bed.  
  
  
*  
  
  
He can't quite do what his father told him to do, which he guesses isn't really surprising.  He actually tries, though.  They move from small town to small town to small town, Mancelona to Acme to Elk Rapids and back to Boyne Falls again, and he doesn't turn the TVs on in any of the cheap hotel rooms they stay in, but that's not the only place with televisions.  And he doesn't let himself buy any newspapers, opting to read Rey's books to her instead (she doesn't even complain, which is how he knows things are bad), but those are all over the place too.    
  
He tries so hard not to look.  Rey tries so hard to stop him.  
  
They both fail at least half the time, maybe more.  
  
Pictures of Snoke in the corner of a news screen, a pretty blonde news anchor saying words Ben can't hear.  Hux's father in an expensive suit, looking somber.  Hux next to him, dark circles under his eyes.  They've finally unearthed pictures of the officer Snoke had murdered, in a brown sheriff's deputy uniform, in a suit at his wedding, in a t-shirt playing with a little boy about Rey's age.  They intersperse them with pictures of the long dirt road leading to the First Order compound, pictures of men Ben knew holding AR-15s and WASR Hi-Caps and old Mosin Nagants.    
  
**Death of Police Officer Part of Militia Plot**  
  
**'I Couldn't Stay Any Longer' Former Militia Member Tells of Harrowing Escape**  
  
**'He's Been Planning This For Years'**  
  
**As Siege Enters Fourth Day, Family Members Fear For Loved Ones**  
  
He never sees his own face.  He never sees Rey's.  They might be mentioned in the articles he doesn't let himself read, but they aren't in the headlines and that's something, anyway.  He watches the people around them when they're out in public, watches to see if they stare too long or too hard, but most people aren't paying attention to him, or the news, or anything.  The sun is hot and the beaches are crowded and Lake Michigan glitters like a jewel on the horizon and something called Blissfest is starting on Friday and apparently everyone is going.    
  
Lenawee County isn't even that far, but it might as well be another planet.  No one here knows about Kylo Ren or the First Order or the red horse.  No one's afraid that the world is about to end.  
  
No one lies awake wondering if, maybe, it already has.    
  
Just Ben and Rey.  
  
They're staying at a place called the Birchwood Inn that looks almost exactly like the other cheap hotels they've been staying at -- same two oversized beds with scratchy floral comforters, same beige carpet and narrow bathroom.  Same bedside table, same television on the dresser.  Rey is reading on her bed, or trying to.  Ben is meditating on his, or trying to.  The room next to theirs, full of bicyclists in lycra, has the TV blaring, and it's hard for him to think over the sound of it.  He breathes deep, lets it out slow, tries to find the quiet.  Tries to hear the voice.  
  
What he gets is this:    
  
\-- _standoff between militia members and the federal government has finally come to an end.  The remaining inhabitants of the First Order Compound near Adrian, Michigan surrendered early this morning after a brief exchange of gunfire with_ \--  
  
Ben's eyes snap open just in time to see Rey leap off her bed and race to the TV  
  
"Rey, don't --"  
  
The first noise from the tv is canned laughter, a tall man stumbling into a diner while everyone turns to stare at him, and then Rey starts pushing buttons -- an Arby's commercial, a used car salesman, Anna Nicole Smith in a swimsuit -- until Ben sees the compound, the police cars, the --  
  
Back to _Seinfeld_ again.  
  
"Rey, Rey, stop!"  He finally manages to uncross his legs and stumble across the carpet, both feet asleep, to where Rey stands in front of the tv.  He covers her hand with his, presses buttons until he finds it again -- Snoke's bent figure being led out to a police car, a jacket draped over his head.  
  
" -- told former members that they would 'go down fighting,' and drew comparisons to Waco and Ruby Ridge.  Rather than steeling the resolve of his troops, however, panicked First Order members began to flee the compound, first in ones and twos, then in larger numbers.  By the time police surrounded the compound, the First Order had dwindled from nearly sixty people down to just fourteen members."  
  
Rey's mother marches across the screen, long skirt on, hair covered, head held high, and Rey presses a hand to the screen.    
  
"Rey," Ben says, but doesn't know how to finish.  _I'm sorry_ doesn't seem like enough, not for this.  
  
"-- peaceful surrender shortly before noon.  Sources say one of the First Order members was removed via ambulance and taken to a local hospital.  The others, including Leader Snoke, were taken into police custody.  Although early reports suggested that several children might still be inside the compound, officials say now that all children had been evacuated prior to the standoff, and are currently safe in the custody of relatives or friends.  
  
"In a brief press conference this afternoon, Lenawee County Sheriff Miles Statura thanked --"  
  
Rey turns the TV off abruptly, and then slumps to the floor, hands in her lap, staring at the carpet.  Ben still doesn't know what to say, if there's anything he can say.  He kneels next to her, as close as he dares to come, but can't reach out.    
  
He doesn't know how to fix this.  
  
He doesn't know what to do.  
  
"He lied," Rey says, finally.  "He -- He said he wouldn't surrender.  But he lied."  
  
"Yeah," Ben says.  "Yeah, he did."  
  
"They're all okay," Rey adds.  She doesn't sound as if she quite understands it.  Ben's not sure he does either.  "They're all -- They're all alive.  They're all okay.  No one died."  
  
"No one died," Ben echoes, and it's not entirely true, but it's close enough for right now.  One death, and that's his fault, and he'll have to deal with that for...  Well, for forever, pretty much.    
  
But there could've been more, maybe.  And now there's not.    
  
His dad told the truth.  He took care of it.  He made sure no one got hurt.  
  
Rey crawls up into Ben's lap, wraps her arms around him, buries her face in his chest.  She doesn't cry, or laugh, or say anything; she just holds on to him.  Ben wraps his arms around her, presses his cheek to her hair.  He's not sure how he's supposed to feel right now, in this moment.  He can't really tell if he's feeling anything.  
  
At a loss for anything better to do, he holds on to Rey and waits for the feeling to come back.  
  
  
*  
  
  
Even with everything he knows, or thinks he knows, about the fall of the First Order, Maz still manages to surprise him.    
  
It happens at the very end of their conversation, just after he helps Rey down from her barstool and sets her carefully on the floor.  He's already halfway to thinking about other things -- how much money they have left, where they're going to sleep tonight, if he should look for a hotel room with a kitchenette (costs more, harder to find) or whether they should just get takeout again (also expensive, hard to find something that he can serve to Rey without worrying whether she's getting enough vegetables and should she be taking a vitamin would that help and did she drink enough water today because it's hot out), and how soon they'll need to find a laundromat and how long until they run out of shampoo and conditioner for Rey's long hair and how many chapters left until he has to buy the next Harry Potter and all those small things that are 90% of his life now -- when Maz slips a little piece of paper in his hand and says, "Your mother says she'll be working late tonight, if you want to give her a call."  
  
_Is there anything you wanted to tell me, Ben?_ she would ask, and he'd feel his ears growing hot and his stomach twisting, palms sweating.  She didn't even have to say anything else.  Whatever he'd done, whatever he was about to be in trouble for, it always came spilling out.    
  
He loves his mother.  He has always loved his mother.  But he'd be lying if he said she wasn't way, way scarier than his dad could ever hope to be.  
  
"Trust me," Maz adds, and pats his knuckles with gentle, gnarled fingers.    
  
Ben can only nod, and place a hand on Rey's back, and usher her quickly out of the Elmira Inn.  
  
He doesn't call until Rey's asleep that night, tucked up safe and sound in another anonymous hotel bed.  The air conditioner rattles and the noise of traffic outside is a constant hum and somewhere, someone is laughing loudly, someone is singing off-key.  He could probably sit right next to Rey on her bed, talk as loud as he wants to and all he'd do is blend into the background noise of her dreams.  
  
He hides in the bathroom anyway, sitting on the toilet with the door locked just in case.  And even though he knows the number to his mother's office, has thought about calling it a million times since even before he left Cranbrook, he still studies the piece of paper Maz gave him, types the number in just as she's written it, slowly and carefully, as if it might just change halfway through and leaving him calling someone else entirely, a stranger.  
  
She answers on the first ring.  "This is Leia."  
  
It takes all the air in his body to muster so much as a whisper of response.  "Hi, Mom."    
  
" _Ben_."  She says his name the same way his father did, and just like then, Ben's eyes fill up with tears.  "I'm glad you called.  I wasn't sure you would."  
  
That stings a little bit.  He's not sure why.  "Of course I would," he says.  "I...  I don't want you to get in trouble, but that doesn't mean --"  
  
"And I don't want you to get in trouble," his mother says, and Ben feels his ears start to warm, just a bit.  Because he is in trouble.  He's known that for a while now.  The only question is how bad it's going to be.  "Which is why I wanted to be the one to talk to you about this, rather than your father.  He's a good man, and he has expertise in...  certain areas, areas that I'm honestly no good at.  I know why you needed him for those things.  But now that the courts are getting involved in this, you need a lawyer.  Granted, custody cases aren't exactly my specialty, but --"  
  
"Custody?"  He'd honestly thought, right up until that moment, that he knew where his mother was going.  He should've known better.  He doesn't know anything anymore.  Maybe he never did.  
  
"Of Rey," his mother says, and _oh_.  That.  This is going to be bad.  "Legally, Ben, you're not in any trouble.  We've talked extensively with your friend Mr. Hux; we know the kind of situation you were in.  There's no DA anywhere in the state who would want to press charges against you right now.  If you chose to come back home tomorrow, you could.  You wouldn't even have to testify if you didn't want to.    
  
"But Rey's mother and stepfather are in jail, and we don't know who her biological father is, and that's...  That's a trickier situation to deal with."  
  
He hadn't even let himself think of it, really.  Going home, back to Northville, to the creaky victorian his dad spent so much time renovating and yet had never really finished.  His old bedroom, and the shag rug in the basement, and the big kitchen and the tiny bathrooms.  Would his dad come back home if he did?  Or would he have to spend weekends in Warren, because he could; he could sleep on the couch, he could --  
  
But Rey.  
  
Rey.  
  
"I told her she wouldn't go to foster care," he says, and hopes that his mom will change course again, say that it's not even an option.  When she doesn't say anything at all, he adds, "Mom, I _promised_ her.  I told her I wouldn't let it happen."  
  
His mother sighs.  This is bad.  "If you bring her back with you, Ben, you won't be able to keep that promise, at least not in the short-term," she says.  She doesn't sound happy about it, at least.  But she doesn't stop, either. "Now, in the long term, there's things we can do.  I can't guarantee any of them will work.  But we can certainly try to get her, if not necessarily back with her mother, then possibly with friends of ours, or even with me if it comes to that.  I'd be willing to try.  If that's what you wanted."  
  
There's something in the way his mother says _not necessarily_ that makes Ben feel sick.  "Why not with her mother?" he asks, even though he already knows he doesn't want the answer.  
  
"Because she's currently denying that she ever had a child, and I don't know when or if she's going to stop."  
  
Ben's throat goes dry.  He swallows hard.  "But --"  It doesn't make sense.  It doesn't make any sense at all.  "There has to be something, birth certificates or medical stuff or taxes or --"  
  
"She's claiming all the documents are faked.  The DA has already sent a psychologist in to evaluate her; I'm afraid I couldn't get more information than that.  Your friend Hux thinks it's possible she's operating under orders from Snoke," and there's a terrifying amount of venom in the way she says his name, "but why that man would want this, I couldn't say.  He's lied about a lot of things, though.  You, apparently, were never in the Order.  I'm not sure why that matters, but.  Maybe this is just...  part of the same lie.  Or maybe not.  I won't pretend to understand what his game is.  I never did.  All I know is --"  
  
"This is my fault," Ben says, because it's all so horribly clear now.  It doesn't matter what he thinks is right and wrong.  What matters is what Rey's mom thinks is wrong.  What matters is what Plutt thinks is wrong.  "Rey was right.  I took her --  I took her out into the world and the moment I did we both became traitors and her mom --  It's my fault, I took her and now --"  
  
"Ben, _stop_."    
  
He does.  He has to.  
  
He's never heard his mother sound so afraid before.  
  
"Listen to me."  There's a sharp, desperate edge to her voice; it only makes him feel worse.  He's messed up Rey, he's messed up his mom, he's --  "This is not your fault.  I don't care what Snoke might have taught you, or Rey, or anyone.  He's a liar.  He manipulated you.  But you still did the right thing, Ben.  You took Rey and you got her out of there before anything could happen to her, before Snoke could make you --"  
  
"Not Snoke," he says; it feels important, somehow, to clarify this.  "Plutt.  Rey's stepfather; we called him Uncle Plutt.  He...  He was strict with her.  A lot of Bible stuff.  Snoke always said..."  
  
But Snoke said a lot of things, didn't he?  In private, when it was just him and Ben.  He said a lot of things.  It never changed anything, not for Rey, not for anyone else.  Ben believed him, God only knows why now, but he should've seen a long time ago.  Snoke was just talk.  Everything he said was a lie.  And Ben fell for it every time.  
  
"I'm so fucking stupid," he says.  "I believed...  God, why did I --"  
  
"You're not stupid," his mother tells him.  He misses her voice; God, he misses her.  He just wants to go home.  "You are brilliant, and strong, and brave, and...  If you weren't, Ben, he wouldn't have singled you out in the first place.  And you were the first out of all of them to see him for what he was, for who he was.  And you managed to get yourself free, and get Rey free.  Don't forget that.  None of this is your fault.  You did the best you could in a very bad situation, and I'm very proud of you.    
  
"And I wish this was over, I really do.  But you have a decision to make.  You can come home; you can come back to live with me or your dad or both of us -- we'll figure it out -- and you can be Ben Organa again.  But you can't just bring Rey back with you, as much as I wish you could.  We have to do this through the courts, the legal way.  And it may not go the way you want it to.  
  
"Or you can choose to stay gone.  But if you do that, Ben...  Getting Rey out of there wasn't a crime -- it was a crime, technically, but like I said, I can't name a D.A. in the state who'd be interested in setting that kind of precedent.  But the longer you keep her...  It starts to be a problem after a while.  And whatever kind of identity Maz set you up with isn't exactly legal either.  The more you use it, the worse it's going to get.  You're going to have to be very careful.  And your dad and I are going to have to be careful not to know too much about you.  Not to talk to you too much, or come visit you, or..."  
  
He doesn't make a sound; he doesn't think he makes a sound, but maybe he does, because his mom breaks off, then, comes back to him with --  
  
"We will _always_ be here when you need us, Ben.  I promise you.  Even if we aren't there in person, we will always --"  
  
"No, I know," he says.  Maz, of course.  Possibly other people his dad knows up here, or someone his mom thinks she can trust.  "I know, I know."  
  
But not them.  Never them.  And his own bed in his own bedroom, his desk and his chair, the shag rug in the basement and the big kitchen and all the rest of it.  
  
If he chooses Rey, he gives everything else up.  
  
But it was never really a choice anyway.  
  
"I made her a promise," he says.  "I told her, no matter what, I'd stay with her.  That she'd always have me."  
  
"Then she's in good hands," his mother says, and Ben finally lets himself cry a little.  He's glad, he thinks.  Maybe he's glad.  His mom's not going to drag him home and he's not going to go to jail and Rey's not going to foster care and he should be glad about all of that.  He knows how much worse this could've been.  
  
Still.  
  
"Mom?"  He tries to keep his voice steady.  It doesn't really work, but at least it tries.  "You can --  You don't have to hang up now, do you?  We can...  We can talk a little more.  Can we?"  
  
"Of course we can, baby," she says, and her voice isn't really that steady either, come to think of it.  "Of course we can."  
  
  
*  
  
  
Rey's still asleep when Ben finally emerges from the bathroom, eyes swollen and nose red, still sniffling a little bit.  She's curled into a tight ball in the very middle of the bed, her whole body bunched up towards the pillows.    
  
She's so small.  He forgets, sometimes, how small she is.    
  
He looks over at his bed.  It's barely two steps from hers, close enough that if he laid at the very edge, he could reach out and touch the edge of her mattress.  If anything were to happen, he'd be with her almost as soon as he woke up.  
  
But still.  She's so small.  
  
He sits, carefully, on the edge of her bed, swings his legs up and stretches out next to her.  Slowly, gently, he drapes one arm over her.  She doesn't so much as twitch.  
  
He closes his eyes and waits for sleep to come.

 

  
  
_Epilogue: December 31st, 1999_  
  
  
  
He almost doesn't answer the phone when it starts ringing.    
  
It's fifteen minutes to midnight and he's sitting on the floor in front of the TV in their tiny one-bedroom apartment with the stained carpets and the yellowed blinds, Rey curled up under a blanket next to him, watching _New Year's Rocking Eve_ with the television on mute.  Times Square glitters in front of him, crowded with people -- laughing, smiling, wearing hats and mittens and scarves and Ben can't imagine what it would feel like to be there.  So many people, all in one place.  They look like a target.  Like an act of war just waiting to happen.  Snoke's still in jail, Plutt too, but they were never alone.  There's always someone else.    
  
Then, too, there's always God.  Not that Ben believes in that sort of God, or at least he's trying not to, but.  He wonders.  
  
And then the phone starts ringing, and he feels the most ridiculous surge of hope and gratitude, but when he looks at the number he realizes -- it's not his mom or his dad.  It's not Maz, it's not work, it's not Rey's school.  It's not a number he recognizes at all.  
  
For just a second, he thinks -- _Snoke._   Snoke's found him.  Snoke has a mission for him.  Snoke is going to make him --  
  
He closes his eyes, and breathes, and picks up the phone anyway, just to prove...  whatever.  That it's over and he's safe.  That Snoke can't touch him now.  
  
"Hello?" he asks, and tells himself he's only whispering because Rey's asleep and she's right there and he doesn't want to wake her.  That he's not scared anymore.  
  
"Don't worry."  Clipped voice, that weird half-English accent (where the hell did a guy from Grosse Pointe Woods ever get a British accent from, anyway?), and the hope comes back again, only a little muted.  "I won't make a habit of this."  
  
" _Hux_ ," he says, and can't think of anything else.  Not that it matters.  Hux was always good at filling silences.  
  
"Only I keep trying to tell myself that if the end times really were starting now, then there'd already be something.  Locusts in Australia or something.  I mean, it's been 2000 for hours now, hasn't it?  Just not here.  God doesn't work on Central Time.  Does he?"  
  
"I don't think so," Ben says, and almost smiles.  "But, yeah.  Me too.  I mean, not --  I'm just...  Watching the ball drop and waiting for...  Whatever.  The rider on the red horse.  Something like that."  
  
"See, I knew you'd understand."  The relief in Hux's voice is almost palpable.  "No one understands.  My mother thought I should come out with them tonight.  To a party.  I almost told her I was going to your mother's instead, just to see the look on her face.  Not that your mother's a bad person -- I think she still hates me, a little, but she's been kind anyway and I actually rather like her.  She is a damn good lawyer.  And I'm sure she'd try to make me feel better but...  But she'll never understand.  You understand.    
  
"Anyway, how's Rey taking this?  She's still with you, isn't she?  Your mum and dad refuse to say, though I don't know why since it's not like Rey's mum has any interest anymore, but --"  
  
"She's with me," Ben says, before Hux can destroy any comfort he's taking in this conversation.  "She's...  I told her she could stay up, if she wanted.  But she fell asleep an hour ago.  I guess she must not be that scared, anymore."  
  
He lays a hand on her shoulder anyway, and she shifts in her sleep, tucking herself securely against his legs.    
  
"Lucky Rey."  The funniest thing is that Hux genuinely sounds jealous, if only for a moment.  "But that's good, though, I guess.  That she's not scared.  Kids bounce back, though, don't they?  It's easier for them.  But you're raising her, then?  Like I said, your parents won't say, but I figured since you hadn't come home yet..."  
  
"Yeah."  Although that's not exactly how Ben would put it, raising Rey.  He's not sure how he would put it, exactly; he's not sure how what he does for Rey is too different from what his dad did for him.  Not, necessarily, that he thinks his dad raised him, or that he thinks his dad would think of it that way.    
  
But he figures it would apply, in Hux's world.  Hux's world was always a little different.  
  
"Yeah, it's...  It's good.  She's in school.  She sort of hates it, actually, because it's --  You know, she reads a lot.  She's good at numbers.  It's boring for her.  There's no challenge.  I keep telling her it'll get better as she gets older, but I'm not sure she's buying it yet.  But she's made a few friends, so that's good."  
  
"Hmm."  Quiet for a moment.  Eight more minutes until the world ends.  If it ends.  It may not.  "He had a son," Hux says, finally.  "That man they killed.  We killed.  A little older than Rey.  His mother wanted me to meet him, so he could thank me.  For bringing his father's killers to justice.  Like I didn't know beforehand what they were going to do.  Like I couldn't've --"  
  
"Hux."  It's too familiar.  It's too close.  Rey's hand sneaks free of the blankets and grasps tightly to the loose fabric of Ben's sweatpants.  "You didn't know who or when or how.  You didn't have any specifics.  All Snoke would've had to do was let them in, spin them some stories...  You know how he was.  Everyone at Cranbrook loved him.  I think my uncle was the only one who didn't, and even he didn't know, not really.  You couldn't have stopped them before.  It had to be after."  
  
"You sound like your mother," Hux grumbles.  There's a long pause, and then he adds, softer, "Although I guess I know why."  
  
_Whatever Snoke told you about barricading the compound and fighting the police_ , she said, _it wasn't true.  Even after it was too late to keep lying, he still tried.  He would've gotten rid of them.  And then he would've been free to do whatever he wanted._  
  
"Like you said," Ben reminds him.  "I understand."  
  
Hux just groans.  "Oh God, don't start.  I already regret saying it.  Anyway, you're safely hidden away in your cave in Canada or wherever, aren't you?  And I'm stuck down here talking to lawyers and giving statements.  With my dad sitting next to me like he hadn't all but thrown me in Snoke's direction the moment I set foot in Cranbrook.  It's awful, you know.  If I wasn't determined to see this thing through, I'd be up in Canada with you.  Get a cave next to yours.  Babysit Rey when you're busy. Maybe find a kid of my own.  Good schools in Canada, are they?"  
  
"They're great," Ben says, but his heart's not really in it.  He hasn't thought much about Hux, that's the worst part.  The prosecution's starring witness, the heart of the case.  All by himself.  "Hux, I --"  
  
"No, really, don't start."  For some reason, Hux almost sounds amused.  Fond, maybe.  "I'm feeling sorry for myself because that's what I'm good at.  But it's better this way.  You were always awful with crowds.  And God knows I couldn't deal with a five year-old.  It's...  Anyway, you've probably got things to do; I should -- Mostly, I just wanted to know I wasn't the only one still convinced the world was ending, you know?"  
  
"I know," Ben says, and then, before Hux can hang up on him, he adds, "You don't have to go.  You can stay a little longer, if you want.  Even just until midnight.  We can watch the world not actually ending."  
  
A longer silence; if Ben didn't knew better, he would almost think Hux was moved.  "All right," he says, finally.  "I suppose that would be...  All right.  Let's do that."  
  
Hux doesn't say anything more.  
  
Ben doesn't push his luck.  
  
He sits there, Rey's forehead pressed to his knee, her hand clutching his sweatpants, Hux breathing into his ear.  The world keeps spinning around them, on and on into the darkness, with no intention of stopping.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is what happens when I see a post about the Star Wars Midwest AU and it mentions Rey being in Northern Michigan: a virtual roadmap to the world I grew up in. I have a lot of thoughts about this world and how people became who they are and why, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask. Just don't be surprised if you get an avalanche in response.


End file.
